


Love Like You

by PrinceofCinders



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Infantilism, Irondad, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Peter is little, Superhusbands, will add more as its updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-09-28 02:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20418446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceofCinders/pseuds/PrinceofCinders
Summary: Peter has lost everything; his parents, his aunt and uncle, his home. Now with the results of his classification back, he feels like he's losing his freedom too.Watch Tony and Steve prove him wrong and show him that family doesn't end with blood.





	1. Chapter 1

As Peter Parker sat on a rigid wooden bench, he mused that the infamous Parker luck finally caught up with him. He made his peace with his biological parents passing; he even came to uneasy terms with Uncle Ben’s passing. But nothing could have prepared him to lose his aunt, and then later the apartment when he couldn’t pay for it. Homelessness loomed over him like a specter of death.

And on top of it all, his classification letter came back. Of course, at the worst time possible.

Peter continued to stare dully at the cheerful yellow wall in front of him, patterned with childish paintings and happy forest animals. His fluffy brown hair flopped in front of half-closed eyes, poorly disguising the deep circles underneath. He half-heartedly flicked it out of his face and laid down on the bench to turn away from the nauseating baby themes and the sympathetic eyes of the receptionist. He could’ve sworn he only closed his eyes for a minute before a hand was gently shaking him awake.

“There we go Mr. Parker, up and at ‘em,” came the cheerful voice of his caseworker. The older man smiled brightly and helped the boy to his feet, leading him into a small room off to the side, explaining as he went.

“Now, given your test results and your current circumstances, you were deemed unable to live alone by federal law. I fought for you not to be placed in a foster home, since you told me direct attention makes you quite anxious. You’ll instead be placed in a center for Littles, just a little bit north of here. It’s a wonderful place with lots of other little boys and girls of all ages, so I’m certain you’ll fit right in,” the worker nattered on even as Peter became paler with each sentence.

He helped Peter to sit up on a small exam table that thankfully had a blanket spread across to protect the boy from the chilly hospital leather. The worker bustled back and forth in the room, opening cabinets and filling a small backpack with toiletries, presumably for Peter. He hesitated for a split second before reaching into a box and pulling a full-bodied onesie with feet attached. At Peter’s stormy face, he hastened to explain.

“Now I know you have a record of fighting your headspace, but I’m afraid it is very cold outside and Littles are susceptible to the cold. Besides, it might help you get used to being treated Little, which will help you feel more comfortable in the center,” he added in a softer tone. Peter scowled darkly and to his horror, could feel tears building. He mumbled a quick affirmative and laid boneless while the worker dressed him and bundled him in the blanket. With a quick check to the backpack, he swung Peter onto his hip and exited the building towards an idle SUV with a Little center slogan printed on the back windshield.

Peter was tucked swiftly into a carseat in the back and the drive pulled off without any further ado, towards what Peter was certain would be the worst turning point in his life.  
The intake passed in a flurry of activity; to his humiliation, he was classed with the “infant to toddler” mindset, so he was kept in the footed pajamas with the addition of a fluffy diaper he had immediately tried to take off. Soon after, he hands were wrapped in mittens for misbehavior. Since it was night time when they got there, he was placed in the infant ward with other sleeping littles. The crib was comfy enough, but in the privacy of the darkened room Peter finally let loose.

He didn’t make a sound but tears streamed heavily down his pale cheeks, dripping onto the sheets clutched tightly against his mouth to muffle his broken inhales. He hated this; hated how every single parent left him too early, hated how he had no control over what was happening, hated how he would probably never be allowed to go to college since Littles after age 18 were required to have a caregiver. Most caregivers didn’t let their Little attend school, preferring to keep them in the headspace whenever possible and not trusting them outside (sometimes for a good reason; Littles tended to bring parts of their headspace with them when they’re big.)

Mostly though, Peter hated how tired he was. How easily the soft edges of the blanket lulled him back to even breathing when he fiddled with them. He could feel the desire to sink down into the soft calm space at the back of his head grow stronger as as his movement with the blanket made his thumb creep towards his lips. With a resigned sigh, he slipped his thumb into his mouth and suckled gently, instantly going boneless against the crib mattress. His eyes closed of their own accord as he soothed himself into a fitful sleep, hoping that the next day would be slightly more bearable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day was not, in fact, slightly more bearable. Nor was the day after that, the week after that, or the months after that.

Peter was propped against a fat teddy bear the size of a sofa, lazily running a red crayon in circles on a piece of paper. He could hear the caretakers whispering concerns to each other about him but he couldn't bring himself to care. They probably couldn’t tell he was there anyway, since there were a dozen hyperactive Littles running amok in the playroom.

“Poor thing, he’s so tiny and adorable but...he’s so sharp. I feel like he dissects any parents the moment they walk through the door,” confessed on older blonde woman, twisting her mouth unhappily. The small group of caretakers around her murmured their agreement as they watched over the room.

“Refuses his pacifier and any bottle or sippy cup. It’s almost like you’d have to train him to be a baby. Sometimes I think maybe his test result was a mix-up,” muttered a sour-looking man. That sentence got a mixed reaction, as no test has ever been mixed up or falsified, but the caretakers almost looked like they wanted to agree with him. Peter bared his teeth in frustration hearing them talk about him like he was a dog. He supposes this is all he has to look forward to for the rest of his life; people loved to talk about Littles like they weren’t even in the room. In a burst of sudden hatred, he flung the crayon with all his might at the opposite wall and with a sharp crack it split in half. The sound made a couple nearby Littles tear up and wail. Before he could even blink, Peter was scooped onto the hip of a caretaker and rushed towards the “naughty room,” which was essentially just a plain room with some rugs for timeouts.

“That was very naughty Peter, we don’t throw crayons or scare people like that,” scolded the blond woman as she plunked him down in the corner. He just rolled his eyes and leaned his whole body into the corner. He memorized the whole naughty routine by now, since it seems like he practically lives here. In the corner for ten minutes, no talking. Just like a toddler. It was beyond demeaning.

The caretaker sighed heavily and set the timer before exiting the room to take care of the chaos Peter left in his wake. The boy stayed slumped against the wall, zoning out even when he heard the timer go off. There weren’t nearly enough caretakers employed at this center, so it's likely someone wouldn’t be around for another ten minutes to get him. Suddenly feeling the chill of the room, he hunched in on himself and curled his fingers into the hem of his shorts, unknowingly beginning to self-soothe by running his fingers over the coarse denim.

Several minutes passed in a haze as maintained his uncomfortable position, elastic shorts and thin onesie doing nothing to warm him up. A gently rapping at the door startled him into alertness as he snatched his hands away from their motions and scooted so his back was fully pressed against the wall, ready to face whoever walked in. The door swung open slowly as two heads peeked around the corner, making Peter almost choke on air. He’d have to live under a rock to not know who these people are; Tony Stark-Rogers and his husband Steve Stark-Rogers, two of the most renowned people on earth. 

Peter wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what these two were doing at the center. The public has known that the power couple had been trying to find a Little for years, but never managed to match with one. His palms suddenly felt sweaty and his heartbeat raised as the two startlingly large men walked towards him and sat down a few feet away on the rug.

“Hello there Peter, my name is Steve,” said the blond man in a soft, cheerful voice. It didn’t sound fake like most of the caretakers, but Peter narrowed his eyes distrustingly anyway. The action elicited a chuckle from the men, surprisingly.

“And my name is Tony, but I would guess you already know who we are,” said Tony with an amused tone. He softened his voice to a soothing rumble as he spoke again. “We saw you sitting all by yourself in the room and thought a nice little guy like you shouldn’t be looking so lonely. Mind if we join you?”

“‘M not little,” scowled Peter. “And I’m a lotta work.”

The two men had a hard time fighting back grins at the soft but determined voice. Of course they’d already read his file, learned about how he’s been dangerously teetering on the edge of headspace for so long but hasn’t been able to go down, and how he viciously fights anything related to Littles.

He was beyond adorable, and in the husband's eyes, he was perfect.

“That’s alright Peter, we would like to hang out with you whether you’re big or small, if that’s okay with you? We have some nice puzzles on our tablet we can solve together. We even brought a jacket for you, since it’s a bit chilly in here,” encouraged Steve as he pulled a creamy white hoodie out of the leather satchel at his side. Peter would normally refuse such an offer, but...that hoodie did look really soft. He reached one small hand to grasp onto the sleeve and oh god in heaven this was the softest fabric he’d ever felt.

Steve let the boy ogle the jacket, feeling his heart turn to mush when Peter unknowingly smiled at the small deer sewn on the front. It wasn’t too baby-ish, which is what the husbands were aiming for. They didn’t want to alienate the kid at the first meeting. They both watched enraptured as he struggled his way into the jacket, helping only when he got his head stuck. Peters fluffy brown hair popped out of the top and the long sleeves flopped cutely over his hands.

“All comfy and cozy now, Pete?” Tony asked, reaching towards the kid and jiggling his foot playfully. Peter still looked as though he’d reached nirvana and he rubbed his finger over the soft fabric, nodding lazily with a barely-there smile on his face. The businessman took out his personal Starkpad, which has a multitude of puzzles and games downloaded in anticipation of this day. He and Steve scooted over on either side of the boy, laying the unlocked tablet in his lap.

“How about you pick what we do first, bud?” Steve nudged the kids shoulder encouragingly as he looked starstruck at the options. Given the state of the facility and the apparent lack of funding, this tablet must have been like the Library of Alexandria for him. He browsed through the options, quickly scrolling past the childish puzzles like the husbands knew he would, and finally settled on a more adult crossword that Tony liked to do in his free time. The husbands grinned above Peters head, Tony puffing his chest in pride as Peter selected the “science” category. Steve rolled his eyes good-naturedly and helped Peter figure out controls for the app.

As time passed and more puzzles were solved, Peter slowly relaxed enough the wind up cradled in the arms of Steve as Tony held the tablet and gesture wildly about the project he was working on. Peter was a rapt audience, eyes wide even as he suckled on his fingers to contain the excitement of finally doing something engaging. Peter even pointed some things out that Tony had passed over and asked questions about the coding that went into the project. Steve slowly reclined the two of them until he laid on his back with the baby propped on his stomach, head pillowed by his impressive pecs. Peter didn’t even notice, just snuggled a bit further into the warmth, staring in wonder at some blueprints Tony had pulled up. 

Sweet boy didn’t even know he was dropping into headspace.

More time passed and Peter eventually fell asleep for his overdue nap, still lying on the belly of Steve. Tony clicked the tablet off and lay on his side beside them, running a large calloused hand over Peter’s back, soothingly patting the bulky diaper. Gentle snuffles filled the quiet room as the Little got his much needed rest and the husbands took the moment to stare in wonder at who would (hopefully) be the baby they’ve always dreamed of.

“He’s so perfect Tony. I thought I was going to cry when those little doe-eyes brightened up,” murmured Steve, covering both of Peters chilly feet with one warm palm. Tony smiled sadly and nodded in agreement.

“You can bet that's the best thing that's happened to him since coming here. Poor thing must be so bored and angry at being stuck here,” came Tony’s voice as he quietly rummaged through the bag, pulling out a few more clothes and some toys. Steve shared a mournful look with him, knowing their visiting hours had ended a few minutes ago and there was a staff member loitering outside to give them privacy to say goodbye.

They dressed the boy in matching sweatpants and pulled soft socks with tiny deer patterns over his feet, eliciting a happy wiggle from Peter. The husbands bit their lips against the coo threatening to burst forth and wake their little one, entirely enchanted by the way his tiny button nose scrunched and nudged further into the warmth of Steve’s chest. They both stood and took turns cradling the baby, drinking in the soft scent of baby powder. Reluctantly, they walked out of the room to hand off Peter to the worker, watching as she disappeared into the nursery to lay him down for his nap.

Tony and Steve exited the building after signing their required paperwork, more determined than ever now that they had finally found the baby meant for them. 

Peter, for the first time in recent memory, was warm in his crib and slept sweetly with dreams of warm hands and gentle voices that told him they loved him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some softness and Peter getting adjusted to a new portion of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needed some softness today because we had to put down my dog. Sorry about the delay; my job has me working stranger hours than usual so I've been completely drained. This chapter was also a bit heavy on exposition, but I'm hoping the next one will be a bit more action filled. I'm thinking I might have them go to a store to let Peter pick out some toys? Or maybe "help" Tony in his lab. Either way, let me know what you guys think!

Peter would be confused, if he wasn’t so smart. He knew he had dropped into his headspace, at least partially, when his potential adopters had been here. That wasn’t something he ever thought he would do willingly, but...it had felt nice. He wasn’t used to nice things.

After waking up alone in his crib, it was explained to him that Tony and Steve filled out paperwork required to start the adoption process and had already attended the screening interview. To know that they were that dedicated to taking him home, even if it was just for a trial period, was nothing short of mind-boggling to Peter. What on Earth did they see in him? Certainly, Peter is young and cute, but he knows for a fact there are massive red warnings in his file about his brains and stubbornness. 

Peter normally would give anyone hell if they tried to adopt him. He’s successfully driven off a few couples already and he would have done the same to the husbands had it not been for the presents they left him. Added to the hoodie and socks were a small pile of toys that actually occupied his attention. A small but accurate periodic table that made satisfying clicks and said the name of the element he clicked on as well as a sinfully soft fawn plushie. They even had the forethought to leave a crossword puzzle book that by now, Peter was halfway through.

Sue him, he had a lot of time on his hands while waiting for the husbands to pick him up. It provided a decent distraction from the mind-numbing terror of going home with relative strangers. He was completely lost in the toys the husbands left for him, oblivious to the door opening and the social worker coming through.

“Good morning Peter! Are you ready for your big day?” came the cheery voice of the social worker. The boy scowled as his concentration was shattered when she extracted the toy from his clutches and scooped him up, carrying him through the long hallways towards a room he’d never seen before. She paused outside the door and adjusted Peter so he was looking straight at her.

“Now, I know that you’re aware that this is the start of the trial period. Both of the Stark-Rogers have already signed all the required paperwork to take you home, and the only thing left is for you to sign saying you’re happy to go along with them. You’ll come back halfway through the trial for a mandatory checkup, and if at any point you want to come back, you’ll be given a little pager that notifies the agency and we’ll come get you. Do you have any questions?”

Peter was almost dizzy at the information but honestly, he just wanted to get the hell out of here. Anywhere- literally, anywhere- was preferable to staying at the center. He just shook his head and pointed impatiently at the door, making the woman chuckle.

“Very well then little man, let’s go in,” she rolled her eyes and smiled, opening the door to what would hopefully be the best part of his life.  
________________________________________________________________

The paperwork passed in a flurry of activity that quite honestly tired Peter out. He could see his adoptive parents on the other side of a pane of glass as they were not allowed to be with Peter in the room when he signed, to give him a chance to reject them with no repercussions. Peter wasn’t stupid, however; he knew this was the best chance of getting out so he signed the papers in a hurry and breezed through his final interview as best he could. The hoodie that the husbands gave him made him so comfortable and warm, it was almost a crime to not doze off waiting for daddies to be allowed to take him home.

Peter eventually lulled back into consciousness by a gentle thumping sound and the most heavenly warmth pressed to his tummy. A large, calloused hand smoothed across his back and gently patted his diapered bottom, almost encouraging the boy back into his slumber when the comfortable surface he was resting on vibrated with a deep chuckle. Peter grizzled at the disruption but looked up anyway, blinking owlishly as the image of Steve came into focus.

“You slept a long time lil guy. Bet all that paperwork tuckered you out, huh?” murmured Steve, bouncing Peter gently in what he realized was a baby carrier strapped to his broad chest. The boy growled sleepily at the childish contraption but still, he wove his delicate fingers in between the strands of soft, plush fur that lined the inside. Steve, bless him, just laughed again at the frankly adorable sound, already entirely endeared by the baby’s attitude.

“Is our boy awake now? It’s my turn to hold him, you’re being a baby hog,” whined the distant voice of Tony and he jogged into the room, a grin splitting his handsome face when he saw the rosy cheeks puff up at being called a baby. The other man rolled his eyes but acquiesced, unhooking Peter and passing him to his husband.

“Notta baby,” grumbled Peter as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around. The room they were in was tastefully decorated and clearly a living room of sorts, if you had more money than God. Which, considering the people he was with, wouldn’t be far from the truth. A large fireplace crackled soothingly in front of plush couches that looked more expensive than a house in the suburbs. Large floor to ceiling windows streamed in the afternoon sunlight and showed the city bustling down below from a dizzying height.

“Wait until you see your room buddy, you’re gonna flip,” rumbled the deep voice of Tony as he bounced Peter on his hip, leading him out of the living room and down a hallway. He flung the door open with a flamboyant ta-dah! Peter could hardly believe what he was seeing. A large circular crib dominated the middle of the room, designed to look like a regal hot air balloon with fluffy faux clouds surrounding the top. The walls were a soft, muted gray-blue that faded to a dark color towards the top. A giant white carpet spread across the floor, dotted with little plushies and a large toy box in the corner. An unobtrusive changing table was against the other wall, similarly colored and lavish as everything else.

You could hardly blame the baby when fat tears welled up in his eyes, utterly overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions he was experiencing. Large hands gently set him on the carpet and he faintly heard the whisper _Did we go overboard? _But Peter completely ignored them. He sat stock-still on the carpet as silent tears streamed down his cheeks. When the hell did the husbands have time to do this? Why did they do this? It was JUST a trial period and with Peter’s track record, it was unbelievable to think people would decorate this extravagantly for him. The previously ignored men sat on either side of him, caging him protectively.

“I know it’s a lot all at once Petey-pie,” cooed Tony as he gently wiped the tears from the boys cheeks. “We know you don’t believe us when we say we want you out of all the other babies there. Given your history, I wouldn’t believe us either. But you’ve been perfect from the moment we laid eyes on you and we wanted to show you that we’re serious. This is all for you, little man.” The boy curled his slender fingers around each outstretched hand from the daddies.

“Fo’ me?” sniffled Peter, completely unaware he was slipping into the headspace he dreaded so much. He was abruptly feeling floaty, though he wasn’t necessarily opposed to it.

“All for you, pumpkin,” confirmed Steve as he playfully jiggled the little hand in his grip. “Even if you don’t want us, when all is said and done, we still want to give you all the things you deserve.” A watery sigh escaped Peter, completely unsure of how to respond to that; it was much more than he ever expected from anyone, let alone adoptive parents. The husbands shared a fond look over Peter’s head and they both stood up with Steve hoisting the baby to his hip.

“Speaking of deserving things, I think we all deserve a nice lunch. How does that sound, bud?” Steve nattered on as he carried Peter from the nursery and past the living room into the kitchen. It was just as extravagant as the other rooms he’d seen but Peter spared it no mind, still feeling quite fuzzy and, well...small. Normally he’d be pissed that someone was chattering at him like he was a baby, but he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend at the moment. He simply curled his hands into the collar of the sweater Steve was wearing and absentmindedly gummed at his knuckles.

“Suppose we better hurry up before this little monster eats my whole sweater!” cooed Steve as he one-handedly helped his husband heat up some soup they’d prepared beforehand. Tony absolutely melted at the sight, taking a sneaky picture before returning to the soup and shooing Steve away.

“Go get the baby situated and I’ll bring everything over,” hummed Tony, swaying gently as he poured the soup and gathered a bottle with some juice. Steve had never been more in love. The blonde man set down Peter in a comfy highchair and snapped the tray into place and lovingly tucked a bib into the boy’s sweater. Peter, still fuzzy, didn’t protest except for a grumble and a slight wrinkling of his eyebrows. Tony walked over with a soft expression, smoothing out the creases with his thumb before setting the bowl and bottle on the tray.

“Are you feeling a little funny, sweetheart?” cooed Tony as he took a seat in front of the highchair. Peter nodded and rubbed at his face, only now realizing new mittens covered his hands. He huffed and pawed at the covering until two large hands covered his own, stopping the movement.

“That means you’re falling into your headspace, baby. That’s not a bad thing at all. We know it’s been a long time since you’ve dropped so we’re helping you ease into it because it’s not healthy to keep avoiding it the way you have,” explained Steve who sat to right of his husband. “Have you felt yucky about anything we’ve done?”

Peter thought for a moment, pouting his bottom lip out adorably (much to the husbands’ amusement who tried to stifle a sound of utter adoration). Truthfully, he hadn’t felt this relaxed in a very long time, and the daddies hadn’t done anything wrong to him. They treated him better than most anyone had in his whole life; they went above and beyond to decorate a lavish nursery just for him, even. The warm softness tugging at his brain whispered sweet nothings and encouraged him to embrace this home, but the other, much more hardened part of him growled that it was just a trick.

“‘S good. Like this ...I like you. Don’t want you to leave. Not s’posed to like this” muttered Peter behind a fringe of curly brown hair as he looked at his tray, too anxious to meet either of his daddy's eyes. Above his head, both men shared a determined look and jiggled the boys mittened hands to gain his attention.

“We’re not going anywhere baby. Even if it takes a million years we’ll still be here for you and we’ll show you how wonderful it feels to enjoy these things. We’ll have all the patience in the world for you, little guy,” murmured Tony as he pressed a gentle kiss to Peters brow. He noted the reddened cheeks and teary eyes and abruptly changed the subject to avoid a total meltdown. All three of them would address the more concerning things the baby said at a later time, when he wasn’t so raw.

“I think we should get some food into our hungry little man and have a nice, relaxing day. How does that sound, baby?” continued Tony as he scooped the bowl of soup into one hand. Peter, now that the topic had moved away from something too emotionally draining, nodded his agreement and sunk into the plush backing of his highchair. He supposed he could play along for a while. Couldn’t hurt, could it? As the husbands took turns spooning warm soup into Peter he relaxed even further, eyelids drooping even though he’d just woken up from a nap. Truly, this was the most wonderful he’d ever felt in the history of...forever. Deep down, he figured it wouldn’t be too hard to get used to something like this. He just hoped this time it would last.

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy lets hope I can stick with a chaptered story for once in my life
> 
> Let me know what yall think! First time dipping my toes into writing for the age regression category, even though I've been reading it since forever. Haven't written in a while either, nor was this beta'd, so let me know if theres any mistakes or confusion with my writing.


End file.
